Bedtime Stories
by Gonzo76
Summary: In most houses, it's a bit difficult to get little children to bed.  This is not so in the GrangerWeasley and Potter households.  PostDH fluffiness.
1. Part I  The Weasleys

**Disclaimer**: I am not JKR. Not only can you tell this from my substandard writing, but also by my blatant Americanisms. And, yes, I know this idea has been done before…and better. But I had fun writing it.

**Bedtime Stories**

"Time for bed."

Upon hearing her absolute favorite words, five year old Rose Weasley rocketed up the stairs. In mere minutes, her face was washed, her teeth were brushed, and she was dressed in her most comfortable nightgown. Fairly bouncing with excitement, she leaned against her pillow and not-so-patiently waited for her parents who were putting her younger brother to bed.

'Hugo's still too little for the good stories,' Rose thought smugly as she snuggled under the covers.

Rose simply adored her parents' stories. They were often short, sweet tales of little bears and ugly ducklings. At other times, they were exciting fairy stories of princesses and evil stepsisters. Sometimes Dad even told funny tales of things his brothers had done when growing up…but he only told that kind if Mum was working late and Rosie promised she'd never, ever try any of those things herself.

The best, however, were the ones that Rose had taken to calling the "Castle Stories." Mum and Dad never seemed to run out of those, and they always featured a clever maiden, a brave knight, and an honorable prince.

The three were best friends, and they got themselves into the most amazing adventures. Together, they faced three-headed dogs, fire-breathing dragons, and even giant spiders! (For some reason, Dad suddenly remembered that he needed to go and work on something very important for the shop whenever Mum mentioned those spiders.)

Sometimes, Rosie admitted (but only to herself) the stories were sort of scary. Once, her Mum had even gotten a little upset when Dad was telling how the knight was poisoned by a rival prince. Even though the story ended happily because the knight's best mate was quick-thinking and saved the day, Rosie noticed that her Dad put a comforting arm 'round her Mum's shoulders and whispered something in her ear. Mum's eyes were shiny, but she'd smiled at Dad. Then she'd finished the night with her own short, funny story about a fair maiden named Periwinkle who had tried to capture the brave knight's heart. Dad had muttered something about liking the spider stories better, and Mum had even laughed out loud.

As she'd watched her parents leave her bedroom arm in arm that night, their heads close together, Rose had fallen asleep thinking how odd her parents could be…and how she was lucky to have them.

Tonight, however, she felt even luckier because her parents had promised a special _new_ story. While she would never admit to eavesdropping, Rose _accidentally_ heard her Mum talking to Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry about it. And even though she was using the extendable ears Uncle George had given her for her last birthday, Rose had only heard a few bits of the conversation. Before Hugo had started screaming and ruined everything, she'd only made out something about making sure Rose was old enough and a cloak.

The cloak thing had confused her a bit, but Rose was sure her parents wouldn't let her down. She knew tonight's stories would be just as exciting as the ones that came before…maybe even more so. And as she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, she knew she wouldn't have to wait much longer. When her parents stepped insider her door, Rose saw a small, ancient-looking book peeking out of her mother's hands.

Moments later, Rose lay in her bed, her mother on one side and her father on her other. She could feel the magic crackling in the air as her mother began, "Once there were three brothers…"


	2. Part II The Potters

**Author's note: **Hmmm...bedtime at the Potter house went in a way different direction than I'd imagined.

**Disclaimer**: Still own nothing. Still not trying to steal anyone's ideas. Still just having fun. Hope you do, too.

**Bedtime Stories – Part II**

Miles away, in a stately old townhome on a quiet London street, another young family readied itself for bed. Here, too, someone waited impatiently for the night's story time. Instead of an excited five year old, however, it was a thirty year old father of three who sat and fairly bounced with anticipation.

'This,' he thought, 'is the best part of my day.'

After several long moments, two pajama-clad boys raced across the room and leapt into their father's waiting lap. Behind them was their mother, who looked somewhat exhausted and quite soaked from what must have been an eventful bathtime.

Harry placed a kiss on the top of both his sons' damp heads. He took in the smell of soap, shampoo, and toothpaste, thinking how wonderfully lucky he was before looking up at his wife.

"Lily went down without a fuss tonight." Fighting a grin, he continued, "I take it bathtime was a bit more exciting."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her husband, but she couldn't stop her own smile as she sat on the arm of the squashy armchair that occupied the boys' playroom. This was also her favorite time of day, and it wasn't just because it was one of the few instances when her rambunctious boys actually quieted down. It was actually because of the sheer joy her husband took from this simple nighttime ritual she'd experienced (and maybe taken for granted) her entire life.

As she watched her two boys lean lazily against their father's chest when he began an exciting tale, Ginny couldn't help but remember another night in this very house, six years and three children ago…

_Ginny sat up in bed suddenly, and it only took a few seconds for her to realize that she was alone. Worried that Harry had again been called away on an Auror emergency, she crept out of bed and made her way carefully down the hall. She intended to go downstairs and make herself some tea for a long night's wait, but then she saw a light was already on in the kitchen._

"_Harry?"_

_At her questioning tone, Harry's head popped up from his reading. "Ginny? What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?"_

_Crossing the room, Ginny lowered her very pregnant self into a chair. She placed a hand over Harry's before answering. "We're both fine." She then motioned towards the books piled on the kitchen table. "It's the middle of the night. What in the world are you doing?"_

_She became even more concerned…and curious…when Harry attempted to conceal the numerous books he'd obviously been reading. When she pushed his hands away and saw the titles and illustrations, she became even more confused. "Harry, what's going on?"_

_His head down, Harry mumbled. "Idunnoanybedtimestories."_

_Ginny understood immediately. The birth of their first child was fast approaching, and she could see the uncertainty behind the excitement in her husband's eyes. As usual, he'd been fairly quiet about his fears, but he'd let it slip to Ron that he was afraid he wouldn't know how to be a father, seeing as he couldn't really remember his own. Ron had confided in Hermione who had, of course, shared with Ginny._

_Considering carefully, Ginny began methodically stacking books. Bright pictures of princes and dragons stared back at her, and she almost smiled at them before she took her husband's face to turn it towards her own. Wondering how best to reassure Harry, she decided to start simply._

"_Where did you get all these?"_

_Harry shrugged. "Hermione helped with my research. You know – when in doubt, go to the library."_

_Now, Ginny did smile. "But of course." Her expression faded, however, when she thought of the real reason behind her husband's late night study session. _

_There hadn't been any room for fairy stories or nursery rhymes in the cupboard under the stairs on Privet Drive. Ginny had to take a deep breath to control her own anger…it wouldn't do for Harry to see her upset. But for perhaps the thousandth time since she'd known Harry, Ginny had the overwhelming desire to find an old beaters' bat and pay the Dursleys a little visit._

_Placing a gentle hand on her stomach and the child growing there, Ginny couldn't imagine how someone could so horribly neglect a child. It almost amazed her that someone who had been treated as badly as Harry had could become such a sweet and loving man. And now it was her job to convince him that he would be just as wonderful as a father._

_Ginny closed the last book and began to rise. Harry got quickly to his feet so he could help her. Before Harry could protest, she kept hold of his hands and began leading him from the kitchen. As they walked, she spoke quietly, "You need sleep." When her husband again began to protest, she continued, "And so do I…and it just so happens that I don't sleep as well when you're not there."_

_That quieted him quickly enough, and they were soon back in their bedroom. After they got into bed, Ginny snuggled into the warmth of her husband. "You know, only a really good father would care enough to memorize fairy tales at three o'clock in the morning."_

"_Ginny…"_

_She cut across him. "But the only way to learn bedtime stories is to have them told to you by someone who loves you very, very much…"_

"_I know, Gin, that's why I'm afraid I…"_

_She stopped him once more, but this time it was with a kiss. _

_Ginny tilted her head so she could look into her husband's clear, green eyes. Whispering, she began, "Once upon a time…"_

With a smile, Ginny shook herself out of the memory just in time to hear her husband's quiet, "And they lived happily ever after."

Looking down, she saw that both boys were asleep. As was their custom, Ginny carried Albus, while Harry took James. After they'd gotten their sons settled safely into their beds, they met in the hall. Quite suddenly, Ginny found herself in her husband's arms.

"I think you outdid yourself tonight."

Harry led his wife to their bedroom. "Albus didn't even make it five minutes, and James wasn't far behind."

Ginny laughed as she undressed for bed. "And yet you finished the story?"

Shrugging, Harry called from their bathroom, his voice thick with toothpaste, "Artistic integrity and all that."

After slipping a gown over her head, Ginny got into bed. When her husband joined her, she complimented him again. "You have gotten quite good with the storytelling, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you've earned one yourself."

Harry kissed his wife's forehead. "Which one do I get tonight?"

A knowing smile on her face, Ginny answered, "This one is about a seemingly shy little girl who never thought the good, great boy-who-lived would ever notice her."

"Hmmm…but does this one have a happy ending?"

Ginny simply nodded and whispered, "Once upon a time…"

**If you enjoyed or have comments, corrections, etc., let me know. Thanks.**


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